Totem
by sleepy-emo
Summary: 'I take another drag of my cigarette, relishing the taste of nicotine on my tongue... No... No that's not right...' Rated M for swearing and graphic sexual content


**So this is something kind of different for me as I don't usually write 1st person present tense but I thought I'd give it a go. This is ppretty much just porn - a good old helping of BDSM yaoi to end the year (pretty much end as I began haha) I hope you all enjoy it and you all have a good new year :D**

A drop of sweat slowly makes its way down my neck. Mustang's office is warm but, to me, it feels like an inferno. How did I get myself into this mess? Naked, tied to a chair with my hands bound behind my back, making escape impossible, blindfolded, a bit gag shoved between my teeth and a spreader bar keeping my thighs open, making sure I'm completely on display. All of that I can just about deal with – it's not the first time Mustang has trussed me up in shibari for his viewing pleasure and it certainly won't be the last. No, what makes this so much worse, so much better and so much harder than any other time is the lightly pulsing vibrator shoved inside me keeping me on edge and driving me crazy.

I've lost track of how long I've been here. If I was able to see a clock then I would be able to work it out but I'm guessing it's close to an hour. When Mustang first left me like this I had started going through the periodic table in my head. I had to do something to keep my mind off the vibrator and reciting elements was the best thing I could think of. I had gotten to titanium, feeling pretty pleased with myself that I hadn't given in to the pleasure like Mustang wanted me to, then the vibrator began pulsing violently, making me scream and writhe. That bastard must have the remote with him! The vibrator had returned to its previous setting almost as soon as it had begun, like he was reminding me that it was still there. As if I could fucking forget!

This thing between Mustang and I is so fucking dysfunctional it's unbelievable. I don't know anyone who lets their lover tie them up and practically torture them for their own ends and gets off on it at the same time. One time Mustang called me into his office after hours, told me to strip and made me masturbate in front of him. It was humiliating, it was embarrassing, it was hot! Having his eyes on me the entire time as I jerked off was more arousing than I had thought it would be. He didn't say anything, just watched me pleasure myself and then dismissed me once I had cum. Another time he decked me up in a leather miniskirt with a plug shoved inside me and made me file all day before fucking me on his desk.

Maybe this was my fault. Maybe I shouldn't have turned up at his office in regulation uniform and said I'd do whatever he told me to for the rest of the afternoon. I mean I could have said no the first time he asked me if I wanted to try this stuff. It makes no sense but I'm so fucking crazy about him that I just go with it – anything to keep him touching me, kissing me, fucking me as often as possible. Every time I think about him tying me up, making me do his bidding, I get so hard. He's a bastard but he's so good at making me want to roll over and beg for it like a dog. I fucking love it and I fucking love him (even though I'd never actually tell him that).

A soft click sounds behind me and a light cool breeze hits my back. Shit... is that the door? There is another soft click and the cool air is gone. That must be the door. I strain my ears, desperately trying to hear for any tell tale sign that it's him behind me. Surely if it was anyone else they would be untying me right now asking why the hell I was bound and gagged in Mustang's office. It must be him... please let it be him. I squirm, although that was a mistake as the movement shifts the vibrator inside me and I moan against the gag. A deep chuckle sounds behind me – at least I know it is him – and I'm suddenly incredibly nervous and deeply aroused.

"Are you enjoying yourself Fullmetal?" he asks softly. He traces a gloved fingertip along my shoulder and up my neck and a shiver runs through me. I don't even need to see him; I can picture the smug smirk on his impeccably handsome face as I lean my head to the side and expose more of my neck for him. I exhale heavily through my nose. That is pretty much all I can do at the moment. Every move I make either shifts the vibrator deeper inside me or rubs the rope against my skin and it feels so fucking good. God I am so fucking damaged! Just feeling his fingers ghosting over my skin, soothing the sensitive bits the ropes have rubbed raw is like heaven. I let out a strangled gasp as he traces a finger gently over one of my nipples and arch into his touch.

"Did I leave you on your own for too long?" he asks chuckling softly. I won't nod. I won't let him know that I have been aching for him ever since he left me tied up with a fucking vibrator shoved inside me. I groan softly as his fingers trace up the inside of one of my thighs. He chuckles again. Of course the bastard is enjoying this, he's already got me begging and moaning even though I can't say a fucking thing. Then I feel lips at my ear and another shiver runs through me. It's probably a good thing he did put a blindfold on me otherwise he would see my eyes roll back into my head when his breath hit my neck.

"Already begging for me to touch you?" he whispers in my ear. "Clearly I've done a very good job breaking this stallion in." I still have enough brain function to roll my eyes underneath the blindfold. Horse jokes? Really? Fucking hell it's bad enough that Winry keeps making 'riding a mustang' jokes, he doesn't need to start making them as well. He continues to run his fingers over my skin, avoiding the areas that I really want him to touch (like my cock) and making sure that he covers all the areas that he knows make me weak. My chest, my neck, my automail scars; all make my head spin and he fucking well know this. He uses all the information he has to his advantage so that he can make me weak.

Every time his fingers travel nearer my crotch I thrust my hips slightly, desperate for him to touch just that little bit more. I hear him chuckle, feeling it rumble in his chest and my skin begins to prickle. God I want more! I want him to touch more of me. I want to feel his hands on me without those damn gloves, I want him out of that uniform and buried deep inside me until I can no longer remember my own name. His tongue traces up the shell of my ear before he runs his teeth over my earlobe.

"Look at you," he says, his voice low and dangerous. The voice that makes me tremble with want every single time I hear it. "trying to get yourself off like a desperate whore." His fingers fail to touch my cock again and I thrust my hips up harder, needing to feel something. I need something to relieve the ache being this hard for this long is causing. I let my head fall back onto his shoulder as he runs his fingers up my entire chest, taking his time and making sure that he pays special attention to my nipples. I arch into his touch; panting, gasping and not able to swallow as much as I would like thanks to the gag. My face must be a mess.

Then all of a sudden his hands are gone and the warmth of him being so close to me is gone and I can hear his boots against the hardwood floor as he moves away. I needy moan escapes my throat. No he can't fucking leave me like this! I'm so turned on it hurts and I need him to touch my fucking cock. I hear chair legs scrape on the floor and I can guess that he has sat down. Apparently what I need and what I am going to get are going to be two very different things if he has anything to do with it.

"Maybe I should leave you like this again, hmm?" he asks, nothing more than idle amusement in his voice. "Leave you to get yourself off as you clearly don't think that you need me for that."

No! That fucking bastard! He wouldn't... would he? What am I thinking? He left me like this in the first place of course he would fucking do it again. There is nothing I can do apart from, maybe, try and fuck myself on this vibrator but with it on, what I guess is, the lowest setting that could take me fucking hours. I wouldn't put it past him to sit there and watch me try. Fucking bastard. I should do it, just to spite him... but those hands. Just the thought of those hands on me and I'm swallowing my pride and shaking my head.

"No?" he asks, amused. I shake me head again. "Are you trying to tell me that you do want me to touch you?" A fucking whine leaves my throat. He makes me feel like a lapdog, rolling over and begging to have its belly scratched. I'm Edward fucking Elric – I am nobodies fucking dog. I want to snarl, grind my teeth against the bit in my mouth and show him just what I think of him but the promise of being touched. I lower my head in submission and nod.

Silence.

That I didn't expect. I expect him to say something but he remains silent and all I can do is picture the smug look on his face as he watches me begging with my body to get him to touch me. There is a creak in the floorboards and I hold my breath, waiting for him to do something. My spine must have been transmuted into wire with all the tension running through me. Boots on the floor again, getting closer to me and my heart jumps. He's going to touch me! He's going to touch me! He stops right in front of me and I can barely breath, I'm so on edge and desperate for him to do something other than leave me there trying to ignore the dull throb of the vibrator.

Without warning the back of his hand connects with the side of my face, leaving my head spinning. I try to compose myself but it's virtually impossible thanks to the gag. He doesn't give me a lot of time either before he roughly grabs my chin, forcing my head upwards so he can look down on me (I guess, I can't see a thing through this fucking blindfold). He bites my top lip and not gently either but I don't even care, he's touching me and that's all that matters right now. Even when he whipped me or slapped me or teased me it was be better than him just ignoring me. He softly kisses the place he bit and I whimper.

"You think you can tell me what to do?" he asks, his voice deadly. I try and shake my head but it's difficult with him holding me in place like that. "You dare to think that you can tell me what you want me to do? You don't get to tell me what to do Edward." I try to shake my head again. Oh god, his voice has me aching. I want to thrust my hips upwards; maybe I can get some friction from his trousers as he's this close to me but I know what he'll do to me if I try. I'll have that vibrator turned up to the highest setting and a cock ring to stop me cumming on before I can even try to protest.

There is silence again. The only sound in the room is my heavy breathing as I exhale through my nose. God, I'm just so glad that he's touching me. Without a word he releases his grip on my chin, practically throwing my head away as he lets go. I feel his body behind me and then one of his hands is wrapped around my cock at the base while the other wraps around my throat. My eyes roll back in my head again and his lips are at my ear.

"You are very, very lucky that what you want and what I want are the same thing at this moment in time." he says softly. God I must be the luckiest man alive right now as he starts slowly stroking my cock up and down. His slow pace is torture and it takes all of my willpower not to thrust up into his hand for fear of him snatching that pleasure away at the last second. He picks up the pace and soon I'm panting and moaning, sweat beginning to prickle on my skin and I'm really desperately trying not to thrust up into his hand. Fuck! Up until a few months ago I had never thought that ignition cloth would feel so good but, holy shit, it does.

I can feel that familiar clenching in my stomach and I know I'm close to cumming. If he just keeps this up for a little longer... The friction of the ignition cloth and the pace of his hand as he jerks me off and I'm nearly there. I can't hold back any longer and I'm thrusting my hips up in time with his hand, needing more of that delicious feeling. God, I'm going to cum and he must fucking know it because just as I think he's going to let me his hands disappear and it's clear that I am not getting away with it that easily.

A needy whine sounds in my throat and I'm thrusting my aching cock up into thin air. I don't even care that I look desperate, this is what he fucking wants so I might as well give it to him. It's the fastest way for me to get what I want. I can tell he's watching me as I desperately try to get myself off but to no avail, all it does is make me harder as I clench around the vibrator. Finally, after a lot of trying, I begin to come down slightly. I'm still wound really fucking tightly but I have enough presence of mind to stop thrusting my hips and try to retain some of my dignity. Over my heavy breathing I heard him laugh humourlessly.

"I hope for your sake your eyes are closed." he says.

He... What?

I barely have time to register what he means before he clicks and I snap my eyes shut. Heat encircles my head and all I can hear is the roar of flames next to my ears as Mustang burns the blindfold away. The heat subsides and I feel the ash fall away from my face. I open my eyes slowly once I'm sure that he's not going to set fire to any other part of me. Fucking bastard could have burnt my fucking eyebrows off! I prepare myself to glare up at him but as soon as I see him I can't bring myself too.

He's standing in front of me, lazily leaning against his desk, fully clothed in his immaculate uniform and smirking at me. I can't hold back the moan when I see him. Something about him being fully clothed and so put together in front of me while I'm stark naked and as on display as I am, having a fucking metal bar forcing my thighs open, is such a fucking turn on. That hunger in his eyes and knowing that it's all for me, that he loves seeing me trussed up like this and wants to ravage me when I'm all tied up. There is another thing he loves to see even more and that's the fire in my eyes and I remember how dangerous that little stunt he just pulled was.

I find myself filled with anger and I glare at him as I try to struggle free from the ropes binding me. If I still had my automail I'd be able to get myself free but as it stands now I'm stuck like this. I growl at him as he watches me struggle. He raises an eyebrow at me as he smirks and that, to me, looks like a fucking challenge. I continue to struggle, snarling at him through the bit and ignoring the jolts of pleasure as the rope rubs against me, maintaining eye contact. I want to show him that I'm no ones fucking dog. It's all for nothing though – he's tied the ropes way to tightly. I could struggle for hours and still never get free. When I finally accept the fact that I'm not getting free I stop struggling, panting to catch my breath.

"Have you quite finished with your tantrum?" he asked. I glare and growl at him. Mustang chuckles. "I'll take that as a yes." He clicks and I feel the burn of flames for the second time that evening. He's so controlled, so put together, and when he uses flame alchemy in these sessions I'm so grateful for that. One wrong move and I'm toast but he's too composed to make a mistake. The fire subsides and the rope is gone. I reach up to remove the gag but I can't move. I look over my shoulder and see, with a flash of anger, that he burnt away everything apart from the rope binding my hands.

That bastard!

That utter bastard! I take back everything I ever said about loving him or being crazy about him. I hate him! If he thinks he can keep me like this he's got another thing coming.

He crosses the room in a few strides and I toy with the idea of throwing a kick his way but before I have the chance he grabs me by the hair and hauls me to my feet. He drags me by my hair over to his desk and shoves me down on top of it. I can't help the groan that rips through my chest as the cold wood stings my skin. I try to glance at him over my shoulder but he's pressing my face against the top of the desk, holding me in place. My head is spinning and I can't focus on anything other than his hand pressing my head against the desk. I struggle for breath as I try, in vain, to free my hands.

I hear a low chuckle behind me and I'm instantly on edge. Whenever he chuckles as he watches me that is never a good sign for me. His hand leaves my hair and I'm given a moment of respite to try and compose myself. He doesn't give me long though before the vibrator inside me springs to life, pulsing violently on the highest setting. All I can do is groan and writhe as the vibrator throbs, sending wave after wave of pleasure coursing through me. I'm practically sobbing, desperate for him to touch me, as he leans close to my ear.

"Go on Slut; get yourself off." he says and I can hear the smirk in his voice.

Shaking slightly, that has nothing to do with the vibrator, I give me hands a small shake to ask him 'how?' How does he expect me to get myself off with my hands tied behind my back. Unless... His lips are at my ear again and he runs a soothing hand through my hair. I gasp and arch up into his touch.

"I'm sure you can think of something." he says before rapping twice on the desk with his knuckles.

I swallow with great difficulty as that sinks in. Is he saying that he wants me to rub myself off by grinding against the edge of his desk? He gives my backside a hard slap in response to my silent question. The force of the slap propels me forward, my cock rubbing against the desk and the vibrator brushing my prostate, and I scream against the gag. I glance over my shoulder, tears of pleasure pricking the corners of my eyes, into his face. His stunningly handsome face just stares down at me expectantly before he sits down in his chair and gestures for me to carry on. Guess that answers my question.

There is no way that he's going to touch me unless I do what he wants so I bite down on both the gag in my mouth and my pride and begin to grind against the edge of the desk. Fuck! It's so humiliating but I'm so hard and I need to do something to get him to touch me. I try not to think about just how humiliating this is and continue to grind against the desk. I can feel myself getting closer and closer to my end and I can only hope and pray that it will be over soon, he'll untie me and show me some kind of affection. The vibrator suddenly stops with a click and I'm so surprised I stop grinding. I look over my shoulder at him, through hazy eyes, and see him staring at me, his chin resting lazily on his fist.

"After that display I think you've earned yourself a reward." he says smirking. Oh god, is he going to fuck me? Please let him fuck me. "Would you like to feel my cock inside you instead of that vibrator?" I nod emphatically, no longer caring how desperate I must look to him.

He hooks a heel in the spreader back and unceremoniously yanks me backwards. I trip and fall into his lap, the vibrator pushing into my prostate. I moan and writhe against him. I feel rather than hear the groan that rumbles in his chest. He grabs me by the throat and I instantly stop wriggling.

"If you carry on like that you won't get your reward." he growls. No! He can't! He raises his other hand to his lips and I hear the rustle of fabric and then his glove is thrown onto the desk in front of me. I watch it balance precariously on the edge before it slips and falls to the floor. He runs his fingers down my back, down to trace the edge of the vibrator. He bites my earlobe. "You know what this perfect arse of yours does to me." I let out a whimper as I hear him pull the zip on his trousers down.

He leans forward to open the top draw of his desk and he pulls out a bottle of lubricant. He releases my neck momentarily to squirt some of it into his palm. He throws the bottle onto the desk before coating his cock. His hand closes around my throat again while his lube covered fingers trace the rim of the vibrator. He's doing this to torture me. The longer he keeps me on edge like this the less chance I have of holding it together when he finally does start fucking me. In one swift movement he pulls the vibrator out of me and replaces it with the tip of his cock before I hear it hit the floor. The temptation to push myself down onto his cock is overwhelming but he tightens his grip on my throat, keeping me in place.

"Is my whore ready to be filled?" he asks. I nod, pushing my backside down onto him as much as I think I can get away with. I'm so desperate, tears of pent up frustration and sweat are running down my face, that I will do anything to get him to just push inside me and fill me completely. He chuckles softly, he knows he has me exactly where he wants me, running his tongue up the length of my neck. "Good answer."

With no other warning he pushes me down onto his cock, moaning in my ear and causing me to moan myself at the feeling. He began a fast, hard pace. Thrusting in and out of me, hitting my prostate dead on each time, tightening his grip around my throat. The white hot pleasure coursing through me and the lack of oxygen make everything so much hotter. I felt everything much more intensely as I thrust down onto his cock; felt the rough material of his uniform against my back and his hot breath against my ear.

"Do you know what I'd like to do to you another time?" he rasps. All I can do is whimper in response, he's going to tell me anyway and I can't exactly answer. "I'd like to fuck you like this – gagged, tied and spread open like a whore – in front of a mirror so you can see just how beautiful you look." God the picture he's painting with his words! I would never in my life have thought that the idea of watching myself get fucked would turn me on as much as it has but it does. Holy shit does it. His free hand travels up my chest to play with my nipples. "What do you say to that Fullmetal?"

One more hard thrust to my prostate with his words and I'm cumming. Hot, sticky ropes of cum shooting out the end of my cock to coat my chest and face. I scream against the gag, clenching around his cock as I reach my limit.

I barely register as he pulls me off his cock and shoves me back down onto the desk so that I'm facing him. I hardly notice as he stands over me and begins to jerk off in front of me. I just about feel his cum hitting my chest and face, mixing with my own, as he reaches his orgasm but I'm so high from my own and light-headed as I catch my breath. His legs give out and he flops into his chair, panting as he composes himself. He looks up at me, our eyes meet and he smiles at me. A tender, loving smile and in that moment he's just Roy; not General Mustang, not my commanding officer, just Roy.

He heaves himself to his feet (which looks like a lot of effort on his part), places one hand under my knees and the other under my back and lifts me off the desk. He carries me into the en-suit bathroom and sits me on the edge of the bath. He turns the tap on before turning his attention to me. With gentle fingers he undoes the gag and removes it from my mouth. I cough and splutter once it's gone but his fingers are at my cheeks, massaging the muscles to get the feeling back into them. I whimper softly, this feels more intimate than anything we just did.

He undoes the ropes around my wrists, bringing each of them in turn to his lips to press gentle kisses along the marks left by the rope. He looks up into my eyes and there is a pregnant pause, tension hanging in the air before I throw my arms around his neck and kiss him deeply. I still don't completely have the feeling back in my lips but I don't care as he kisses back with equal force, one of his hands tangling in my hair.

We stay like that until the room is full of steam. We break apart and he turns the tap off. He grabs a cloth, wets it and wipes the cum from my chest and face before helping me to my feet. My legs are still a little shaky as I slip into the bath. I hum contentedly as I settle myself back in the water. He reaches over and brushes my fringe out of my eyes before kissing my lips softly again. He gets to his feet and I lean my elbows on the edge of the bath.

"Are you going to join me?" I ask smiling up at him. He smiles back and kisses my forehead.

"Just let me get changed." he says. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a packet of cigarettes. He slips one out of the packet and places it between my lips. I smile crookedly, holding onto the cigarette, as he lights it. I inhale deeply and watch him get to his feet and leave the bathroom. I lean back against the end of the bath enjoying the warmth of the water and exhale a plume of grey smoke.

A few moments later Mustang enters the room again wearing nothing but a towel around his waist. He smiles at me and I bite my lip drinking in the sight of him in nothing but a towel; he's so god damn beautiful, no marks or blemishes, save the scar he got while fighting Lust. I take another drag of my cigarette, relishing the taste of the nicotine on my tongue...

No...

No that's not right...

No, no no!

* * *

Edward awoke with a start breathing heavily, cold sweat making his skin clammy and making him stick to the bedsheets. He placed a hand to his head, wiping the sweat from his brow. He felt dizzy and sick, like he was half asleep but knowing, with painful clarity, that he was not. He let out a shaking breath – it had felt so real. He had felt Mustang's hands on him, felt the pleasure as he teased him, as he fucked him, and felt the love and intimacy when he took care of him afterwards.

With a great deal of effort Edward sat up and placed his head in his hands, resting his elbows on his knees. There was a soft grunt from beside him and he looked over at the sleeping figure next to him. A lump sprang to his throat as he looked over at the man who looked almost exactly like Mustang. Tears stung his eyes and he looked away quickly for fear of losing it completely. As he did his eyes fell on the unopened envelope, discarded on the windowsill. He didn't need to open it to know what was inside – an invitation to the wedding of Roy Mustang and Rize Hawkeye. He had seen the tattoo of a hawk over Mustang's heart often enough to know that he never even stood a chance.

He placed his face in his hands and sobbed silently, knowing that the only time he could ever be with Roy Mustang, the man he loved, was when he was asleep.

 **Not totally sure how happy I am with the last sentence of this but at the same time this is pretty much on of the few things I have written that doesn't have a happy ending (sorry Ed). The idea was taken from the totems in Inception as enjoying cigarettes is one of the ways that I know I'm asleep. Anyway I hope you enjoyed it all the same and, as I said before, you enjoy your 2016**


End file.
